


A Midsummer's Holiday

by chddug



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:40:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24743221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chddug/pseuds/chddug
Summary: “We are happy here, and I don’t wish to go;” said Frodo to Gandalf one day, “but the days are running away, and Bilbo is waiting; and the Shire is my home.” Aragorn had insisted that they stayed until some day that he long wished for and hoped to share with the companions. Legolas had an inkling of what the day might refer to, but his worry was upon another matter. He had not heard from Mirkwood since Elrond’s sons spoke of warfare on the Northern lands.He often thought of the time in the Northern woods these days, reminiscing about the nights in the woodland glades, under the starlight with his father and kinsmen, and worried that those days and those people were never to return. And that occupied his mind until the day of midsummer when a riding of fair folk arrived at the gate of Minath Tirith.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Arwen Undómiel, Elrond Peredhel/Thranduil, Frodo Baggins/Sam Gamgee, Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf, Legolas Greenleaf & Thranduil, Éowyn/Faramir (Son of Denethor II)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 65





	1. A New Beginning

The summer of Third Age 3019 in Minas Tirith was a fair and bright season after many years of unrest. For although there were still many things requiring repair and rebuild, the dark shade that shrouded the white city was finally perished. The scent of ash and burn in the air was gone, as was the shadow and fiery light from Mordor. From afar the hills of Emyn Armen in the southeast started to host a variety of birds and beasts that were gone for some decades, and the forest of Ithilien in the northeast appeared to become a lusher shade of green.  
  
The people in Gondor had started to decorate their windows with flowers that grew on the plain of Pelennor. After the bloodshed of many brave men of Gondor and Rohan, the plants thrived in the summer. One plant, in particular, gained the favor of many citizens of Gondor. That was the Athelas, also known to some as the king’s foil. Ioreth, an old wife who served in the house of the stewart, in some idle chitchat might have mentioned the sweet flagrance of the plant, and their lord’s miraculous healing with it. Not long after, Athelas which was hardly found anywhere in Minath Tirith (and when it was, people usually found it in the food of the livestock), became the mascot of many houses. In some way or another, all men, dwarf, elf and hobbits felt a change in the air, and with excitement welcomed the forthcoming new life.  
  
In that summer Legolas stayed in a fair house near the Stewart’s court with the remaining companions of the Ring. They now finally had the chance to talk freely with each other, exchanging outlandish stories they encountered in their respectively journeys. In the daytime sometimes he sat in council with Aragorn, Faramir and the other lords, sometimes ventured into the forest of Druadan, often taking Gimli with him, but most of the time he joined the others in helping rebuild the white city. While Gimli preoccupied himself with repairing the gates and stoneworks with his axe, Legolas wandered around the gardens, healing the trees of wounds from the dark days, and talking gently to the horses scarred from war. In the nighttime, the companions usually sat together around the fire, telling stories from their adventures or from old lores. Legolas would enjoy a good cup of wine while his companions smoked the good longbottom leaves from the South-Farthings. There was always music. Aragorn sang a few times the tale of Elendil and his sons, and odes to Tinúviel, the favorite daughter of all firstborns of Ilúvatar. Legolas sang about the beauties of Greenwood the Great, and of Doriath where his father dwelled as a child and now dearly missed. From Gimli the dwarf they heard music of deep love for the mountains in Middle Earth, but the most joy were brought by the hobbits, whose songs praised the food and sunshine in the Shire, and the famous beer from the Green Dragon Inn.  
  
They enjoyed very much each other’s company in the hard-won peace. Still soon one thing or another began to trouble the minds of some companions. “We are happy here, and I don’t wish to go;” said Frodo to Gandalf one day, “but the days are running away, and Bilbo is waiting; and the Shire is my home.” Aragorn had insisted that they stayed until some day that he long wished for and hoped to share with the companions, but which day it was he and Gandalf would not say. Legolas, on the other hand, had an inkling of what the day might refer to, for he had become close friends with Arwen Evenstar during his stay in Imladris, and the sons of Elrond had ridden out to the North in the beginning of May.  
  
Legolas was truly glad for his friend and kin as the day was finally approaching after decades of waiting. Thanks to precious Gimli he now saw the hardships of maintaining a love that transcended the boundary of race and lifespan, and as it went through many struggles he deemed this love well deserved and worth telling through ages. But his worry was upon another matter. He had not heard from Mirkwood since Elrond’s sons spoke of warfare on the Northern lands. When Gimli hoped for aid from their peoples, as they treaded on the Path of the Dead, Legolas had replied, “they have no need to ride to war; war already marches on their own lands.” And now that prediction seemed true.  
  
His king Thranduil obviously saw war coming, even before the messenger of Sauron arrived at the gates of Erebor. Thrice did the messenger come, and the omen was clear to all that dwelled east of the Misty Mountains. Legolas suspected that it was out of concern of his son’s safety that Thranduil sent him to Imladris to report Gollum’s escape, for under Elrond’s protection Imladris remained the last homely house east of the sea. If evil did prevail, Imladris would have been the last land of the free people to fall, and there, Legolas would have had a better chance of passing to the west.  
  
But Legolas could not have stayed behind, not when four hobbits were sent to the heart of Mount Doom and his friend Estel along with them. Perilous was the journey, but worse waiting in the shelter would be. Legolas had wrote a long letter, that described the discovery of the ring, the council of Elrond and asked for his lord’s forgiveness for he could not remain behind. He bid Feren, the woodland guard that traveled with him, to take the letter to his king sometime in December the previous year, but by the time in January when the fellowship departed there were yet any answer from Thranduil. When Legolas fought on the plain of Pelennor, which was full of dead bodies of men and orcs, there was little doubt that the same fight was on the doorsteps of Mirkwood, his home.  
  
He often thought of the time in the Northern woods these days, reminiscing about the nights in the woodland glades, under the starlight with his father and kinsmen, and worried that those days and those people were never to return. And that occupied his mind until the day of midsummer when a riding of fair folk arrived at the gate of Minath Tirith.


	2. The Wait is Over

When the day of Midsummer arrived, Legolas could stay in Minas Tirith no more. He longed for the cheer of his woodland kin and the comfort of the forest deeply, for all the Midsummers in his centuries-old life, save one or two, had been accompanied by the not quite sophisticated yet ever so fierce and loyal people that he grew up with and their magnificent celebrations on this day of the year. In the morning he decided to spend the day in the Druadan forest, seeking solace in the woods for a little bit.  
  
Upon the news, Gimli announced that he would like to share this trip with Legolas. “I have yet to find jubilation in trees”, said the dwarf, “but I would love to keep you company, whilst you celebrate the day away from your kin.” At that Legolas smiled.  
  
So they took Arod and rode together as before over the plain of Pelennor to the forest, where the they set loose the horse and let him wander freely. The two companions found a trail leading to Eilenach, the highest point upon these lands that could be seen from the west. Upon the one side of the pinnacle they looked over the vast plains of Gondor and watched the Anduin flow south towards the sea; and upon the other side they marveled at the snow-laden peaks of the White Mountains stretching from the outskirts of the pine woods to the far west.  
  
Along the trails Legolas barely saw a leave of Beech or Oaks which were commonly found in the Northern woods, but he noted that the pines were blessed with a different character, solemn and more steadfast. Through the sound of their leaves they murmured to him, telling him of squirrels newly moved to the trees, and of the smell of the wind ere the start of the age.  
  
“Do you find satisfaction as you hoped, ibinê mim?” Asked Gimli when they were taking a rest on a meadow among the trees.  
  
“Aye, I have. The forest has a strange charm other than that of my home.” Answered Legolas. “Still I miss Eryn Galen dearly. For my folk are cheerful people, and we celebrate midsummer by feasting together under the starlight and dancing through the night. Pleasant is the wine at the Guesthouse of Minas Tirith, but it is no match for the fine wine of Dorwinion that we enjoy at home. Alas! But you comfort me, Gimli. And even for a thousand barrels of Dorwinion I would not trade the moment.”

************************************************************************************************************************************************

As Legolas said those words, his thoughts wandered, through the countless summer nights that he spent with childhood friends and his king. He remembered one Midsummer’s night particularly vividly. Tauriel had not come of age, and while she did not yet take any official duty, Thranduil doted on her. The king was drinking with his people when Tauriel pleaded him to teach them a dance. To everyone’s surprise, the king agreed.  
  
“I shall teach you one dance, that I learned while camping on the plain of Dagorlad, before the wrath of Mordor.” He said, “In those sore days of blood and fire, it brought me hope and joy.”  
  
To their amazement he rose up to a dance, the like of which was foreign to Silvan elves but its beauty struck a chord deeply in their hearts. And with great patience he taught them the moves. It seemed to Legolas that Thranduil was so much softer and happier that night that he wondered if his father had been a different elf before a crown was set upon those brows and made a majestic yet distant king out of it.  
  
And Tauriel was stunning that night. Legolas remembered how her slender body danced to the rhythm and her fiery hair flowed in the starlight. He could not help but noticed the similarities between Tauriel and Gimli, who shared the same bright red hair and the notoriously quick temper while both were determined and almost loyal to a fault.  
  
“Yet Gimli is different from her, rather different from anyone I’ve met before.” Thought Legolas. Indeed, while Tauriel had been solemn, Gimli was playful; and while Tauriel seemed proud at the first glance, Gimli was ever polite and amiable to the companions, even when Legolas thought the dwarves crude and made no effort to conceal his contempt. But the most important difference was that, while Tauriel had always been a close friend (and his intended for a brief time), Gimli was the love of his life, a fact that only came to his realization after the strenuous battle at Helm’s Deep.

************************************************************************************************************************************************

It was upon nightfall when they reached the iron doors of Minas Tirith. Past the gate they dismounted from the horse, walking the stone path slowly towards the upper level, smiling and nodding to the good people who saw them passing by. When they first arrived in the white city in March, people had thought this companionship marvelous before growing accustomed to the sight. Fair was the face of Legolas, and stout was Gimli the dwarf, yet many found it hard to believe that an elf and a dwarf could walk together in peace, still less hand in hand.  
  
When the said pair finally reached the topmost tier, the day was almost dark. They found the rest of the companions next to the fountain in the king’s garden. During the long years before the war it had been totally forgotten and rank with weeds, but the hobbits could not allow it to stay deserted once they discovered such a place. With heavy labor they planted it with seeds of Oiolairë, thyme and roses, and even some Niphredils that they brought from Lothlorien. As for Gimli the dwarf, he took upon himself the task to restore the fountain built in the days of the early kings. Remodeling it the way of fountains he saw in Imladris, he added here and there dwarven patterns typically painted on the tall walls of Erebor. When Legolas and Gimli walked over, the companions were smoking the pipe-weed and talking in good spirits, most of them cooling their feet in the water.  
  
“But Bergil said the potato salad here is the best among these lands. He would bring me some cooked by his mother to me tomorrow, says he.” Pippin declared in excitement, brandishing his pipe.  
  
“Then you are very lucky,” Gandalf said with a smile, “for I heard Beregond’s wife is a wonderful cook.”  
  
“But they don’t cook potatoes as chips here, like we did in the Shire;” reminded Sam with longing. “Served with fried fish and some herbs on top. That is the best, I daresay!”  
  
“Yes, I remember that. Bilbo was always quite fond of that dish.” Said Gandalf, after he blew a ring of white smoke into the air, “He put extra portions of basil on it a lot, and that was some….twenty years ago.”  
  
“Maybe good master Samwise could make some fish and chips someday, and show them here the proper way to cook taters.” Suggested Merry.  
  
“Then I will need at least half a dozen taters, and turnips and carrots, and maybe some more…” Sam started, but at that time they heard some hustle outside the garden.  
  
“Damrod!” Called out Aragorn to one of the guards patrolling nearby, “What is it? Has the prince of Dol Amroth returned from Ithilien?”  
  
“No, my Lord” answered the guard, “There are a group of fair people led by Lord Elladan and Lord Elrohir. They are heading up the floor as we speak.”  
  
Hearing that, Aragorn, being the strider that he was, hurried past the guard and ran down the stone-paved passage, soon disappearing from the other companions’ sight.  
  
“Alas, the day has finally come,” exclaimed Legolas, much to others’ bewilderment, and he urged them to follow Strider’s steps down.  
  
“Who are we going to greet there?” Pippin wondered.


	3. The Arrival

A crowd was already gathering on Shipwrights Street, a broad way running towards the gate on the third level. As the companions followed the cheering noise down the pavement, they gradually saw a band of riders, a hundred folks at most, surrounded by residents of Minas Tirith on both sides while their steeds stood in place. White stars twinkled in the background, and a sweet fragrance floated in the cool evening air.  
  
At the front of the company sat Ellandan and Elrohir on their white stallions, both gripping an end of a silver banner in their hands, grinning from ear to ear when they saw the companions approaching. Then came Glorfindel, who seemed to have brought streams of sunshine into the night, his face ever joyous and youthful, and his hair shimmering of golden light.  
  
“At last we meet again, my friends, on this glorious eve!” Yelled Glorfindel to the seven companions, his voice clear and musical to their ears.  
  
“At last!” hailed Frodo who walked with Gandalf in the lead, “Master Glorfindel, your voice enlivens the city and brightens my heart!”  
  
At that Glorfindel laughed, his mirth touched everyone who heard the sound. “No more than your deeds have warmed mine, Master Ring-bearer,” and turning to Gandalf he said, “white color suits you well, Mithrandir!”  
  
Next to him came Erestor and the household of Rivendell. Like Glorfindel and the twin sons of Elrond they all smiled broadly and expressed their happiness at seeing the companions.  
  
Then among a group of fair folks cladded in grey, they saw Galadriel, Lady of Light. Underneath the grey cloak of Lothlorien she wore a white dress with silver embroidery, and long hair flowed like golden river from her fair head. She was speaking softly to Faramir, who had come down earlier that night, before her eyes landed on the newcomers. Her lips turned up the smallest curve, yet her bright eyes were smiling warmly. Suddenly all of their weariness was lifted, and for a moment Frodo thought he was back in his old bedroom at Bag End, waking up to a fresh morning as Bilbo called “breakfast is ready, lad!”  
  
“Could Bilbo be here as well?” Hope rose in Frodo’s chest and he looked further into the crowd.  
  
“My Lady!” But Gimli wept aloud behind him, before rushing to Galadriel’s side, arms flung up in the air, making both Faramir and the lady laugh. “Never have I thought that my eyes could look upon the fair lady of the Galadhrim again! Our last parting has given me much grief, but so much joy it brings me to see you in Minas Tirith!”  
  
Looking past many friendly faces in the lady’s company, Frodo finally saw Aragorn, who had previously disappeared from their garden gathering. “…..Not until tomorrow morning, but thankfully we should have everything ready,” with his back towards Frodo, he was conversing with the wise Elrond, whose ageless face now rid of distress and seemed even younger than before. And beside Elrond, that Frodo saw with great wonder, stood the lovely Arwen Undómiel, the Evenstar of her people.  
  
Upon her dark smooth hair sat a circlet of silver band with small twinkling gems, and wrapped around her flawless white body was an elaborate dress sewed with silver and emerald threads. Glimmering light danced around her, emanating not only from her hair and dress, for in her grey eyes shone Verda’s stars. It seemed that in her smile all the world’s love and tenderness breathed from her rosy cheeks, and even Frodo could not find words to describe such beauty. He said to Gandalf then: “At last I understand why we have waited! This is the ending. Now not day only shall be beloved, but night too shall be beautiful and blessed and all its fear pass away!”  
  
Legolas treaded softly after Gandalf and the hobbits, immersed in the exultation from the crowd around him. His eyes crossed with those of Aragorn’s briefly, knowing that his friend who had wandered long had finally found happiness. Smiling contently, he turned towards the rear of the company, and unexpectedly caught sight of strands of auburn hair and a familiar face that belonged to none other than Galion, the butler to his king’s court.  
  
“Had something happened to Mirkwood?” Unease loomed in the young prince’s chest. “Galion!” He cried, “what business brings you to Minas Tirith?”  
  
At that moment he suddenly saw, no more than a few feet away from Galion rode Thranduil on a white horse. Amid an easy conversation with Lord Celeborn at the end of the assembly, his father looked more relaxed than he ever remembered. Thranduil was wearing an unembellished yet stately silver robe, and on his golden head laid a simple crown that he usually wore in battle or travel, a light band made by intertwined silver branches amidst which inlaid a single white gem.  
  
“My king,” with a few strides Legolas made to Thranduil’s side, feeling the latter’s eyes landing on him and beginning to scan him with intensity, “it gladdens my heart to see that you are well.”  
  
With his gaze unaverted Thranduil alighted from the horseback in one swift graceful movement and landed on his feet before the younger elf. “My son,” the king whispered, and before Legolas could realize he was pulled into a gentle yet firm embrace. For some time he relaxed in his father’s strong arms, nose rubbing against Thranduil’s broad shoulder and breathing in the soft scent of berries and beech leaves there.  
  
When they at last pulled away from the embrace, Legolas said in slight confusion, “I had thought that I might not see you for a longer while, although I wished desperately for your news.”  
  
Now resting his hands on Legolas’s bent elbows, Thranduil replied, “Lord Celeborn kindly offered me invitation to his granddaughter’s wedding.” Affection shone in his eyes, “besides, had I not come here myself, I do not know what could bring home the footsteps of my wayward son.”  
  
“Ada,” feeling abashed Legolas began, but Thranduil offered a comforting smile, putting a strand of stray hair behind his son’s ear. Therefore instead of confessing to his former obstinacy, Legolas asked, “who should take care of Eryn Galen whilst you are away?”  
  
“Eryn Lasgalen is its name now,” mentioned Thranduil, and a torrent of amazement and embarrassment flushed into Legolas’s heart. “Tauriel has been captain of the Woodland Realm for a few centuries. Once more in the battle against Dol Guldur in March she proved her capability, thus I trusted her with affairs at home before starting this journey.”  
  
“All is well at home,” the king continued, “and I am more interested in your exploits. Scattered news reached Mirkwood by ravens of Erebor and messengers from Lorien, but still many details are missing. Maybe one of these days you could spend an evening telling in full details your exciting stories.”  
  
“But now,” his eyes turned towards Gimli and the other companions, “maybe you could introduce me to your friends in the Fellowship?”  
  
So long had Legolas been worried about Thranduil’s well-being that he had completely forgotten to think about how to inform his father of the decision to restore Ithilien (before sailing to the sea!) and his choice of partnership. Nervously he extended his arm towards Gimli at his side and said, “this is Gimli, son of Gloin.” The dwarf bowed low when Legolas added, “Through many long battles we fought together, his axe so mighty for orc-necks that even my bow finds it hard to outmatch!”  
  
If Thranduil sensed the edginess in his son’s voice, or noticed the dwarven braids in the younger elf’s blond hair, he did not utter any disapproval then. Inclining his head, the king said to the dwarf, “Many times have I seen your forebears on great battlegrounds. What an honor you bring to their memory by your contribution in the Fellowship!”  
  
To that Gimli duly replied, “I thank you for your compliment, Lord Thranduil. For many decades my people benefited from alliance with your kingdom. Only by the aid of your elven army and your stronghold against Dol Guldur can Erebor stand securely in the north. Hail, and well met at last!”  
  
Hearing that, Thranduil smiled and said nothing more. Later that night Gimli said to Legolas, “at last I know where your fairness sprang from. Magnificent is the lord Thranduil to look upon, although his beauty is that of an early spring; exquisite are the flowers blossoming in the snow, yet a chillness is still in the air!”  
  
That was the moment when Aragorn King Elessar spoke up, “my friends! Through much toil and turmoil we have struggled until the precious peace is won. Darkness is lifted and the night is blessed as the day! Welcome, gracious guests from Rivendell, Lothlorien and Greenwood, and bless you for bringing to me what I hold the most dear! Long have I looked forward to this day, of triumph and reunion. Let us celebrate the day together, to love and friendship!”  
  
All the riders then alighted from their steeds. And Elrond bestowed to King Elessar a sceptre of silver rod. He said, “to your left hand I give to you the Sceptre of Annúminas, an heirloom of Arnor that was in my safe-keeping for the last age.” And then he took Arwen’s hand solemnly and placed it in Aragorn’s other hand, “to your right I give to you the hand of my daughter, Arwen Undomiel. May stars shine on the days that you share!”  
  
Looking into the eyes of Arwen’s affectionately, Aragorn held her hand steadfastly and remained silent for a long time. At last he hailed, “Let us walk to the high city together!” And he led the merry folks to walk up to the embrasure in the citadel, fingers intertwined with those of Arwen’s the whole time.


	4. The Wedding

When the companions reached the Citadel that night, they were surprised to see that the Place of the Fountain had been redecorated. Banners of gold and silver were hung up and every statue in the courtyard was adorned with flowers. As Aragorn led Arwen up the stairs to the King’s Halls, the courtyard containing the White Tree was gradually filled up with people, and a band of musicians situated themselves by the fountain, with harps and viols and flutes at hand. 

Legolas watched the crowd gather on the right side of the stairway, between Gimli and his father. To Gimli’s right stood the four hobbits, and to Thranduil’s left stood Galadriel and Celeborn; wisdom shone through their ancient eyes. When he saw that all the guests and musicians were ready, Gandalf stepped forward to the new couple and gestured. The chitchat from the crowd quickly died down. 

“Dear friends and free people of Middle Earth!” Hailed the white wizard, his voice loud and clear, “Here we celebrate the union of two great souls, of Arwen Undomiel, daughter of Celebrian, daughter of Galadriel, and Aragorn, son of Arathorn, son of Gondor!” 

Thunderous cheers and clapping erupted from the grinning crowd following his words, and Galadriel and Faramir came before the noble lovers. Then the lady of the Galadhrim stoodbefore the king; she touched the Elf-Stone that lay upon his chest and gave them her blessing. Her words were spoken in Elvish, that only Gimli and three of the hobbits were not conversant with. But even they understood her meaning, for they heard Verda’s name was called and a music of love and starlight poured into their hearts. 

While she spoke, the crowd was silent as if held by a spell; and when she finished, they saw that the king seemed taller than before, and a light danced about his face. Then Faramir opened a casket and held up a crown of ancient queens. It was shaped like Aragorn’s crown, all white and with wings of a sea-bird, but it was loftier and instead of seven gems of adamant on the king’s crown there were five gems of diamond in the circlet. On the summit of the crown lay a single emerald, its style matching the fiery stone set upon Aragorn’s brow. With great seriousness in his movement, Faramir set the crown on Arwen’s head and said his blessings, also in Sindarin. Gimli could hear that Manwe was named and a good deal of happiness was in his voice. And finally Faramir announced:

“Behold the Queen!”

At that moment a greater cheer broke out from the crowd, and the musicians started to play altogether. The doors to the King’s Halls were opened, allowing everyone to follow the king and queen into the white building. Inside many tables and chairs were set, and a grand feast was made ready. 

There Aragorn and Arwen went to sit together at the high table, and all the others followed to take their seats in the halls. Legolas parted with his father, as he chose to sit with the other companions of the Fellowship while Thranduil sat beside Elrond with the Elven lords. An abundance of food was served, and after a little while everyone was quite full. Then the guests took turns to congratulate the king and queen and gave them gifts, while the singing and dancing began all around them. 

Elrond was the first to walk to the high table, a sword in his hand. Legolas recognized that it was Hadhafang, a sword made by the High Elves of the past and wielded by Elrond through the ages. The half-elven’s face was lit with a smile but sorrow lingered in his grey eyes. He gently held Arwen’s hand for a little while, and turning to Aragorn he said, “so long is the life of Elven kind that it seemed only yesterday that you were a toddler playing on my knees. Your childish pranks and laughter are still in my ears, but you have become a great king of a new age and now hold the hands of my dear Arwen.”

With unshed tears, he looked into the same grey eyes that belonged to his foster son, and placed Hadhafang in Aragorn’s hands. “This sword has fought well for Elros and myself. May it add strength to your house and through your line serve the blood of Eärendil.”

Aragorn was greatly moved by his words. With tears glistening in his eyes, he finally replied, “Hannon le, ada.”

Gifts were given with more cheerfulness from other guests. The households of Rivendell and Lothlorien brought with them exquisite jewelries and earnest wishes. With Thranduil came thirteen barrels of Dorwinion; Legolas was not surprised by his father’s choice of gifts at all, but the hobbits were enormously amused. Frodo gave the new couple a book of verses about themselves, some verses he remembered from Bilbo’s compositions, such as the “all that is gold does not glitter” lines, others written by his own hand during his stay in Minas Tirith. Aragorn and Arwen were both delighted and honored to see such a gift. And Sam, feeling a little ashamed that he had not foreseen the wedding and therefore had not prepared a gift, promised that he would cook some food exclusively found in the Shire for them in the following feasts. Merry and Pippin, on the other hand, performed a dance on the tabletop as a wedding gift, which they enjoyed immensely. 

At last Legolas walked with Gimli to the newlyweds to give them a necklace of sparkling gold; in his free days, Legolas had helped Gimli make the jewelry from ore-laden rocks that the dwarf gathered from the Glittering Caves. 

“I remember meeting you for the first time in the northern wild lands. Even in the bleakest nights you spoke of our beautiful lady with ardent love and determination. Through the years I have the honor to become your shield brother, and it gladdens my heart to see you finally taking her hand in wedlock.” Aragorn smiled back at him, as he turned to Arwen and said, “and Arwen, you are a sister to me and I remember the change in you when you returned from Lorien one summer. You finally have the love that you had so dearly desired. And I wish that your days together shine brightly for the ages to come!”

And Arwen looked overwhelmed by happiness as he said those words. In sweet tenderness she pulled him into a warm embrace, and said gently, “long gone were the summers that we spent together in Imladris and the secret dreams of love that we shared! I had wished for your happiness as long as I wished for mine! I am so happy that you have found your companion too!”

But Legolas looked slightly disturbed, although his smile did not falter. When Arwen asked him what bothered him, Legolas said:

“It is but a silly concern I have, for I have not told my father about Gimli, and I know not whether he would give us his blessing. For before he was king of Eryn Galen, he was Thranduil of Doriath. And old feuds do not settle easily.”

“Have faith, hanno nin,” She cupped his face with one snow-white hand, “it is a different world that we live in now. Many changes have taken place, and many will still.” 

“Two years ago no one could see an elf and a dwarf forming such a strong bond!” And mischief twinkled in her eyes.

It was then when a sound of discord rose among the joyous songs and cheers. A heated argument in Elvish was heard from within the building, and the rooms of celebration quickly became quiet due to confusion. The companions looked to discover Thranduil striding from the inner halls, his silver robe flaring as he walked towards the courtyard. With sudden rage the Elven king took down his crown of silver twigs, beheld it with agony for a moment, before casting it disdainfully to the ground and disappearing from the doors. 

Confusion and unease rose in Legolas’s chest. He apologized to his friends and made ready for the door when Elrond emerged from the inner halls, looking no less anguished than the Elven king. With great care he picked up the crown and bore it on his hands as if it weighted years of sorrow. After one silent glance to Legolas and Aragorn to reassure them, he followed Thranduil’s footsteps into the cool night. 


	5. The Song

Despite the discord, the celebrating folks recovered their high spirits after a short pause of silence. Pippin started to sing one of his favorite drinking songs; then Merry sang the chorus with him, and more people joined by clapping together. Gimli squeezed Legolas’s hand and offered a comforting smile at him. 

“Shall we join those two mischief-makers, laddie?” He asked, “I could challenge you to another drinking game, and you won’t find it easy to win this time.”

“Aye,” Legolas smiled, “I would love that.” After exchanging a look with Aragorn and Arwen, he followed Gimli back to the singing crowd. When he sat down with Gimli back at their table, Beregond had already supplied them with a pile of beer mugs, and Frodo was watching Sam swallow a whole mug of Dorwinion with amusement. 

Gandalf was not at the table though. When Legolas glanced around the hall, he found the wizard eating a small piece of blueberry pie contentedly at Galadriel’s side. The Lady of Light seemed incredibly serene, her facial expression undisturbed by the clamor moments ago, all-knowingness glinting in her eyes. 

“I’ll take a head start, so that you don’t find yourself falling upon the table too soon,” he shot Gimli a teasing look, and the dwarf huffed loudly. Then Merry started another song, and it went like this:

_ Sweet is the sound of the pouring rain,_

_ And the stream that falls from hill to plain. _

_ Better than rain or rippling brook, _

_ Is a mug of beer inside this dwarf! _

And laughter exploded around them. When the guffaw subsided, there was another voice slowly singing a melodious tune from outside the halls. The voice was low and musical, reminding them of the broad surface of the Anduin reflecting starlight in the nighttime. The song itself was various, full of might and passion in some stanzas, but melancholy and heart-stirring in others. Realization slowly came to Aragorn’s eyes.

“I have heard this tune when I was but a child,” he said to Arwen, “Lord Elrond often sang me this song when I could not go to sleep. Aye, it is his voice that we hear! He told me that it was about two elven princes who fell in love in time of war. When the war ended, they had to part with each other to rebuild the homes for their peoples. But he could never finish the song, always stopping near the end. Never thought I could hear the song again!”

“Aye, it was three millennia ago that I last heard this song,” added Glorfindel. He cast a look at Celeborn, who seemed lost in memory and pained by the verses. The verses went like this:

_ The Days were short, the frost was cold _

_ For winter had here thrice forth-rolled _

_ The people sang for soldiers lost _

_ In Mordor wherefrom darkness crossed _

_ Then riders countless came from north  _

_ To aid the war in year the fourth _

_ Led Oropher the Elven king _

_ And winsome was his golden prince _

_ His horse was tall, his sword was keen _

_ His eyes were cloudless, blue and clean _

_ In wine and song his mirth untamed _

_ The bright spring Thranduil was his name  _

_ The dark haired Elrond heeded him oft _

_ In Thranduil’s gait his heart was caught _

_ Through squabbles these two princes met _

_ And turned into a warm duet _

_ Soon fell the brave king Oropher _

_ His rival strong, his end bitter _

_ Tears mournful dampened Thranduil’s gown _

_ In grief he bore his father’s crown _

_ His blue eyes dark with clouds and rage  _

_ That only Elrond’s words assuaged _

_ But long were songs of war and loss _

_ The cruel Mount Lithui lay across _

_ Against dark lord the fight went on _

_ Crusaded men and elves forlorn _

_ Their wintry armors damp with rust _

_ And mighty heroes turned to dust _

_ The nights starless with tales sung coarse  _

_ Of seething dragon and leaping horse _

_ While Elrond fret ‘bout looming wars _

_ Bid Thranduil him with liquor poured _

_ “Pray relish your watch of the night _

_ For war may part us at first light _

_ With me now empty cups of wine _

_ Ere Sauron’s trouble ‘round you twine” _

_ And solemn Elrond to him said  _

_ “Speak not of parting which I dread _

_ With thee I gladly drink this cup _

_ And promise by Eärendil’s blood _

_ “when war cries fade from the southern sky _

_ And Dagorlad grow green and spry _

_ I from Gil-galad's side shall leave _

_ With haste and bliss then fly to thee!” _

Although the song was written as a dialogue, there was not a second voice to harmonize with the lone singer. Again and again the singer chanted the verses, drowning the audience in the halls with tremendous sorrow. Merry and Pippin stepped down from the tabletop and listened; Sam put down his mug and stared into his master’s blue eyes with a heavy heart; and Gimli found Legolas’s hand and held it steadily. 

For a long time, no one spoke a single word. The mellow music seemed to have frozen time and entranced the crowd into a bygone dream, taking them back to the dark age that few in the halls had lived through. Torrents of emotions rushed into their hearts, adding to them the weight of history and feeling of loss. Galadriel alone looked unaffected, her lips curling up a warm smile nonetheless. 

No one knew how much time had passed, when a second voice joined the song. It was the voice of a Sindar, clear and bright and full of life. It awoke the crowd from the sorrowful dreaminess and brought their minds to times of peace, reminding them of thriving forests, of birdsong and fawning animals in the woods. Legolas realized it was the voice of his father, which repeated the last stanza and added another verse:

_ “when war cries fade from the southern sky _

_ And Dagorlad grow green and spry _

_ I from Greenwood the Great shall leave _

_ With haste and bliss then fly to thee!” _

_ “Desire for peace I share with thee _

_ And no less crave your company _

_ The misty mountains and white shores _

_ Shall not make our path ever fork!” _

Together the two voices sang in harmony and elation replaced woe in people that heard them. Revelation came to Legolas’s mind, for many things that happened through the years made sense now. He held Gimli’s hand with tenderness and smiled while the singing voices faded in the distance. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The drinking song is from the first LotR movie, where Merry and Pippin sang at the GreenDragon Inn. I changed the word "Took" to "Dwarf" because Merry was making fun of Gimli. The other song sung by Elrond and Thranduil is something I struggled to write (I really can't write this kind of stuff :( although I still enjoyed writing it) I'll write another chapter on this scene from Elrond's point of view.


	6. The Lover

Elrond gently held Arwen’s hand for a little while, and turning to Aragorn he said, “so long is the life of Elven kind that it seemed only yesterday that you were a toddler playing on my knees. Your childish pranks and laughter are still in my ears, but you have become a great king of a new age and now hold the hands of my dear Arwen.”

With unshed tears, he looked into the same grey eyes that belonged to his foster son, and placed Hadhafang in Aragorn’s hands. “This sword has fought well for Elros and myself. May it add strength to your house and through your line serve the blood of Eärendil.”

Aragorn was greatly moved by his words. With tears glistening in his eyes, he finally replied, “Hannon le, ada.” Nothing more was needed to say, as they both remembered the promises made years ago and neither of them ever doubted their love and trust towards each other all these years. 

“Let the farewell be out of our minds for now,” said Elrond, although the sentence was said more to himself than to Aragorn, “for a little while still, we will live and celebrate the days together. Enjoy the night, as you are surrounded by people who have watched you grow and fought with you to this day.”

Struggling to keep sorrowful looks from his face, he turned away from the new couple and looked to his table. Beside his seat Glorfindel was contending with Thranduil in a drinking game, their golden heads buried deep in mugs of wine and their table encircled by the watching households of Rivendell and Mirkwood. Galion and Lindir were among the most enthusiastic of the audience, already taking bets on the winning of their respective lords. 

Feeling estranged from their merriment, Elrond decided not to join them and let his steps take him to somewhere less crowded. Strolling absent-mindedly he found himself in one of the inner halls where the wine barrels were stored. The space was quiet and empty apart from guards that popped up occasionally to pick up more drinks. Not far from the barrels there was a small opening leading to a balcony overlooking the lower tiers of the city. 

Elrond walked to the balcony and stood before the balustrade. Putting his hands upon the railing, he leaned forward and stared into the houses on the lower levels. A thousand windows, some of which were lighted but most were dim, appeared before him. Somewhere on the third level, a middle-aged woman reached out of her window to retrieve a kite from a nearby tree with a long stick while her son watched with wondering eyes. Slightly higher than their house, a girl sat with her arms resting on the windowpane before an open window, her pensive eyes fixed on a red rose held in her right hand. Inside a small house to the right of her home, an elderly man struggled to push his windows wide open, while his equally elderly wife squinted to see the wedding celebration taking place in the citadel. 

Behind this lively world of Minas Tirith, the White Mountains rose magnificently in the background. Glaciers glistened white under the waxing moon that shone brightly amid a sky of stars. Of various colors, the stars twinkled at him like different eyes, and the brightest of them all, that emitted lights of the golden and silver trees, hung silently in the western sky. 

“Would you be glad, ada, that your children have fought relentlessly to build this world? That they have found their happiness with each other?” He whispered to the silent star, “or would you be sad, for the world of our fathers will bear us no more, and those that we love are destined to part from us?” 

“My Lord Elrond,” a voice broke out the silence. It was Beregond who went to pick up more wine for the feast, “Shall I help you with anything?”

“Thank you Beregond,” he answered, “but no need to mind me. I will return to the main hall in a little while.” To that Beregond bowed and left. 

Then Elrond fell into deep thoughts, and the celebration of his kin seemed otherworldly to his troubled mind. He could not tell how much time had passed, when a clear voice jested:

“For what reason does Master Elrond, mighty among elves and men, shy away from his daughter’s wedding and come here, brooding alone?” Elrond turned back and saw Thranduil’s tall figure emerging from the storage room. 

“Mellon nin, Glorfindel sorely lost the game and demanded another judgement from you,” the golden head said, his lips forming a flamboyant smile from inebriation, “but here you are, keeping this beautiful night to yourself!”

With a sigh, Elrond watched the other approach and join him on the balcony, “I am merely contemplating upon the inevitable farewell that will soon befall between Arwen and the rest of us.”

With a short laugh, Thranduil put down the empty mug he was holding on the ground, “at least she did not run off with a dwarf!”

“So you noticed?” Elrond raised one brow at his old friend, realizing that Legolas had not been able to keep his relation with Gimli away from his father.

“It was hard not to notice,” Thranduil sighed, “the unusual braids in his hair, (you couldn’t find the same braids on any other elf who walks this earth!) and the way they looked at each other. It was not as if I had not been in this stage before!”

Feeling his heart trembling a little bit, Elrond said, “but I see you do not seem drastically repelled by this. Legolas’s worry was indeed misplaced.”

“I could force Legolas to stay in Eryn Lasgalen or sail to the west, but separation will only make the love stronger and the pain harder to endure, for what happened between them was real. Alas, I am afraid there is no force that can change his heart now. Such is the path chosen by Valar for each of us, and you, my friend, of all people might understand it best.”

“Indeed there is nothing that either of us could do to change their fates, although I foresee that Legolas’s path does not end here.” Elrond looked to Thranduil on his right. The Elven king seemed weary for the first time on that night. He touched the center of his brows with one hand and seemed deep in thoughts. 

Trying to divert the subject, Elrond asked, “so how did you find me in this small corner?”

“Oh I didn’t,” a jesting smile returned to his friend’s face, “I was merely searching for something stronger to taunt Glorfindel who seemed far too happy tonight. Valar knows how he survived all those legendary wars with such a reckless mind!”

“You, my friend, do not get to call anyone reckless,” laughed Elrond.

“And you are ever so prudent,” Thranduil retorted, “to avoid indulgence altogether. I remember you never drank with the others on Taniquetil, and Lindir said you were never at the celebration for Sauron’s defeat.”

“Aye, the people in Gondor will honor Midsummer for years to come, but it is the day that my daughter went on a divergent path; Elves on Middle Earth commemorate Taniquetil for it marks the defeat of Morgoth, but it was the time when I knew that my parents were never returning; people cheer on the day of Sauron’s defeat to the victory of elves and men, but for me,” he paused, looking into the bright blue eyes of the Sindar. “It was the day that you left me,” he thought achingly, but said instead, “it was the day I failed to make Isildor destroy the one ring.”

Thranduil’s gaze softened at his answer. “Mellon nin, you put too much burden on yourself. If this makes you any better,” with a careless smile, he started a melodious tune that praised the stars of Verda. Elrond recognized that it was one of Maglor’s tune, and he was both shocked and deeply touched, for three thousand years ago Thranduil had almost killed him on the mention of Maglor’s name. 

Maglor had often sang this tune to him and Elros to sleep when they were children. Through Feanorion’s voice they grasped the beauty and vastness of the world for the first time. It was also one of the tunes Elrond often sang to his children while they were young, and to Legolas when he visited Imladris as a child. But through Thranduil’s voice it was rendered differently: apart from the celestial beauty that Maglor instilled into the song, it told the stories of the million souls who looked up into the sky, of their joy and sorrow, and of their liveliness. 

And the voice vibrated in Elrond’s chest, who could not describe his own feeling even with all the knowledge of Middle Earth. Through his damp eyes, he watched Thranduil chant the verses to the embroidered night sky; his golden hair shimmered and his blue eyes reflected the brilliant starlights both above the White Mountains and below the citadel. Unexplainable emotions seized Elrond as he traced Thranduil’s movements, the feelings of love and loss so strong that they almost crushed him. He took great effort to refrain from touching the Sindar’s hair and face and kissing those eloquent lips. When Thranduil finished the song and turned to look at him, Elrond realized that their faces were only inches apart, and the sweet smell of Dorwinion flew into his nose.

“Praise to the stars of Elbereth that shone on us through the ages,” he whispered, “but I love no less those that shine in your eyes. How shall I live without either, Mellon nin?”

A touch of pain flickered in those bright blue eyes, but the Sindar did not avert his gaze. With his eyes fixed on Elrond, he waited as the latter struggled to put together the next words.

“Sail with me, Thranduil,” Elrond asked finally, “sail with me to the west and let us stay away from the turmoils of the mortal world and be to—” But Thranduil quickly drew away as if he was appalled and greatly hurt by the other’s suggestion. 

“The rings of power are fading and elves will soon lose their place in the land that we have called home for so long,” the half-elven implored, “start afresh with m—”

“Sail with you!” The words burst from Thranduil from sudden anger. 

“Forgive me that I do not have the many connections you have overseas, nor is there another who waits for me,” he snapped, “my people have survived the ages without a ring of power, and the wellbeing of the woodland realm remains out of your concern!”

“Excuse me if I leave this meaningless conversation,” leaving no room for Elrond to explain, he left to the door with one swift turn and strode quickly out of the other’s sight. 

Left alone in the opening, Elrond felt that the world had gone quiet and faint. With no second thought he rushed after the woodland king and entered the main hall of celebration. The room was already quiet and many eyes followed his movement. 

He was aggrieved to see Thranduil’s crown lying desolate on the marble floor. With care he picked it up and bore it on both hands, mourning for the three thousand years that they spent apart. Sharing a look with Aragorn and Legolas to reassure them that nothing grave had happened, he followed Thranduil’s steps into the courtyard. 

To his dismay there was no sign of the elven king amidst the night. Quickly he strode across the white-paved courtyard, and rushed past the sentinel at the seventh gate. Below it went a winding road that led down the slope, and beside each house along the pavement there was a divergent pathway that stretched into the darkness. And Thranduil was not seen still.

As he picked up his pace and turned at many corners, Elrond felt as if a cold hand had seized his heart. Tremendous fear flooded over him, as he dreaded that Thranduil would be lost to him forever. Alley by alley he searched, passing houses and inquisitive people with no avail. His heart quickened at every turn that might lead to his long lost lover, but only to be let down as the empty night shrouded him further. 

And a strange drowsiness slowly came to his mind, as if a spell was cast among these white walls. In great distress, Elrond started to question every decision he had made that led to this day, and Celebrian’s words came to his mind. Before her departure to the west, she had said to him:

“I wish you had left everything and gone with him; I wish you had turned me down when I asked for your love. No Elrond, despite all your heroic deeds, you’ve always passively accepted what fate bestowed to you. Never once have you the nerve to pursue what you desire, and in doing so you cruelly hurt those who love you the most.” 

Weariness covered her face, and Elrond knew that there was no way to make her linger in Middle Earth anymore, “Beg not for me to stay, for I am the daughter of Galadriel and I have made my decision. I will sail to the west, and until the end of the world I will not return to your side.”

Her words weighed down his heart once more, and he thought to himself, “but there was nothing I could do when my parents left me, for I was only a child; I could not implore Maedhros and Maglor to stay because I knew they were bound by their ruthless oath; I could not beg Elros to be part of the elven kind, as he did not ask me to become a mortal man. No, such is the path that Valar carved out for each of us, and so little we could do to change it!

“Still so many times I have thought of her words after she left. In countless nights I wondered, if I had forced Isildor to toss the one ring in the heart of Mount Doom, how many lives would be spared. In some part of my heart I knew that she would have done it. Thranduil would have done it. And so many things would have been different!

“And our lives would have been different, had I implored to leave with him after the war, had I asked for his hand after Eiriel’s demise. We would have shared the three thousand years that have gone by!”

At that moment, something solidified in his heart and determination came to his eyes. With dim hope, he started to sing the song that they composed together in that dark age, of the promises they made to each other. All of Gondor would hear, but that was alright; for he had determined to strive for what he cherished at the end of this long age. Aimlessly wandering in the intricate network of alleyways, he patiently chanted the verses over and over again, waiting for the Sindar to appear with the smallest hope in his heart. 

And so the night dragged on. The noise of the celebration grew fainter in the distance, and the moon had moved a great distance to the west. At last, under the crown of a beech tree, he heard the same music traverse through the alleys, and Thranduil’s shimmering form appeared on the end of the twisting road. Their voice echoing and harmonizing, Elrond watched as Thranduil gradually drew near, until the latter stopped in front of him. 

The Sindar raised one hand and slowly caressed Elrond’s dark hair until resting it at the back of the latter’s head. His face was peaceful but his gaze was intense with emotions. For a few moments, Elrond felt his heart was beating so fast that it would almost leap out of him. He scrutinized Thranduil’s striking face and light gold hair lovingly, and traced down the Sindar’s flawless skin and elegant neckline with his eyes until they rested attentively on those curved lips. 

Without much thought he seized those soft lips with his own, being pulled into a strong embrace at the same time, and felt, after a long dark age, that his world was finally pieced together once more. 


	7. The Conversation

The wedding celebration went on for two more days afterwards. On the next morning, when Legolas and Gimli walked past the streets to the main hall, they saw that the flowers newly planted were in full bloom and trees were growing. 

“It seems a lot of things have changed since last night,” remarked Gimli as they walked up, “even I could sense it. It is almost like when we were in Lorien; the air and plants have undergone a change so drastic that you’d think an eon has passed, but you only feel the passage of mere minutes. Strange business that is — I’d say that is the magic of your elvish folk here.” 

“Aye, for the world moves in a different way for the elves. Many leaves would grow and fall but in our eyes it was only in a blink,” said Legolas, “now that I am in the company of my own people; time goes by faster than the days we spent on the road southward and on battlegrounds.”

Other people must had felt it, too. For the celebration went on merrily just like the night before, and there was no boredom or tiredness in anyone’s eyes. Merry and Pippin were pranking Beregond into a dance contest with his lord Faramir, at the same time trying to acquire the secret of fireworks from the inebriated Gandalf. Frodo spent much of the time with Gildor, the elf from Rivendell that he had thrice met, and asked him about Bilbo whereas Sam was nowhere to be seen. 

Thranduil and Elrond joined them sometime later in the afternoon. They sat down beside Legolas when most of the others were playing Quoits, which was Bilbo’s favorite game, to pay tribute to the hobbit who could not attend the wedding due to his old age. Bergil and his young friends made a garland of flowers and declared that it should be the prize for the winner. The hobbits, and some elves and archer men were fairly good at Quoits, but Gimli and the children were struggling to throw the wooden rings near the grounded pin. 

“At last!” The dwarf cheered, as the last ring in his hand flew forward and landed over the pin, “see! It only requires a little practice.” Bergil and his friends clapped and whistled loudly for the dwarf. 

“Legolas!” Gimli called, “come here and show us your archery skills!”

Hearing that, Legolas smiled and stood up at his table. He picked up ten wooden rings from Bergil’s hand, and without moving his feet threw all of them out in almost blurry movements. When he sat down, the crowd applauded in amazement because all the rings landed precisely on the marked pin. 

“Blessed are the hand and eye of Legolas!” Exclaimed Gimli, “now he is a master of Quoits!”

“If there is no one who wishes to take another shot, we will put this garland on our companion Legolas Greenleaf!” Declared Pippin, who slung his arm towards his elf friend, and the crowd waited with expectation.

“A skillful archer is Legolas indeed,” Glorfindel remarked almost ecstatically, “but a shame you haven’t seen Thranduil at great battles of the last age. I daresay his prowess as an archer is by far unrivaled east of the sea.”

And the crowd began to chant: “King Thranduil! King Thranduil!” Even Legolas was eager to see his father demonstrate such skills, since he learnt bow and arrows from Thranduil’s guard Elros rather than the king himself.

But amid the chorus Elrond quietly furrowed his brows, as he was one of the few people that knew of Thranduil’s wounds from dragon fire. With only one good eye it would be nearly impossible to measure distance accurately. To the crowd he said, “what could please a father more than to see his son excel at skills that he was proficient at? Let the young take the prize, and we shall be contented.”

As many people nodded in agreement, Pippin continued, “then we shall give this prize to his son, if his highness would not participate that is!” But then Thranduil held out his hand and took one ring from Bergil’s hand, and cheers erupted from the crowd.

Still facing Elrond he laughed, “but why do we take the fun away?” Without even looking at the target, he raised his arm and smiled triumphantly at the half-elven as he heard the thud of the wooden ring on the spike. Therefore in the midst of roaring cheers a crown of flowers was brought to Thranduil, who put it immediately on his golden head. Later on two more flower garlands were made by the children and given to Queen Arwen and Lady Galadriel. 

It was later that night that Thranduil sat down with Legolas in a quiet corner of the halls and put the flower crown on his son’s head. “Elrond was right, you know,” he said to Legolas who seemed surprised at the confession, “it pleases me immensely to see you excel at archery, even though I regret that I was not able to teach you that.” 

“Given time you will also become a strong leader, a great king of the woodland elves; at that I have no doubt. I could now leave our people in your care with peace in mind.”

He paused for a short moment, and then continued, “although I feel you have another determination in your heart, ioneg.”

Realizing that it was time to tell Thranduil about his decisions, Legolas drew a deep breath and let it out. 

“Caring for our people I will, at least for a little while. I wish to restore Ithilien with a faction of our people if you’d let me. After that,” he struggled out, “Ada, I heard the gulls and my heart would not be at peace ever since.”

He turned to Thranduil and looked at his father gravely, “I cannot say how many days in Middle Earth there will still be for me, even though my heart is tied to this earth and its people.”

“And one of them being a dwarf?” His father asked.

“He is!” Exclaimed Legolas in surprise, “Ada, I would not dare to ask for your blessing for I know the grudge between our peoples is longstanding. I had held the same grudge and prejudice against his people for centuries as well, but Gimli proved to me how wrong I was! Without his bravery and loyalty and wit, I would not have survived the perilous journey here. Without him guarding me with his axe, I would not have fallen sleep in countless nights. I could not have loved anyone more than I love him!”

And Thranduil reached out and put his hands on Legolas’s that was resting on the latter’s knees. He squeezed those hands gently and said, “that I already see from your eyes, my son.”

He continued as Legolas looked at him in confusion, “I have been king of the woodland realm for ages. Long have I led our people away from the dwarves and men and many of our own kin, believing that seclusion would protect them well. It worked for some time but over the years it cost us more to fight on our own, for our lives, our futures are intertwined with that of the world. You showed that to me, ioneg. For the last seventy years I have chased after you, trying to hold you back while you throw yourself into the grand torrents of the age, and in doing so re-established the bond between us and the others.”

He smiled gently at his son, “I was aggrieved to hear that you risked your life to join the fellowship — Elrond got quite a few furious letters from me. But I have not the heart to say that you were not right. I have not the heart to say it this time — my son, you do have my blessing. I do not know the dwarf well, but I see that he brings you happiness. And may that happiness last long in your days.”

And Legolas was greatly moved by his words, since seldom before had they confided their feelings to each other. “I can’t thank you more for those words, ada. Nothing you did deviated from the intent of a benevolent king and loving father,” he confessed, “although I feel sorry for Lord Elrond — he must have suffered much from my reckless behavior and your angry letters. I wish you happiness too, ada — please tell me, will you sail?”

Thranduil contemplated for a moment before saying, “I am still needed in Greenwood, to cleanse the forest from begone darkness and arrange for our people’s lives. But in a few years, yes, I will sail. I will finally take down this crown and just be Thranduil, freely in the undying lands.”

“Tauriel will care for the people in my stead,” he sighed, “she will not leave this earth for whom she loved is buried here. Alas, I wish the same fate will not fall on you, my son. Live your days as you desire, and may no regret come to you at the end of your time here. You may take as many people you want and rule the land in Ithilien, but I ask you of this: come home first. Come home and see your friends, Tauriel, Elros, Feren — they have missed you much, and spend some time with me until it is time that either of us should sail.”

“Aye, I will,” Legolas replied, “I wish nothing less than that.”


	8. Other Conversations

So the music and feast went on and ended on the third evening. At the closure of the celebration, people were surprised to realize that three whole days had already passed. A new queen was welcomed into the white city, and the work of the new age was to begin. Almost everyone had a great time, and now it finally came to the companions’ minds that the journey that brought them together was about to end; it was time to return to their own homes and resume their livelihoods.

Almost everyone had a great time — that meant, somebody obviously did not. In fact, Frodo seemed pensive all the time and Sam was nowhere to be seen for the last two days. What happened was — in the charms of Thranduil’s singing, Sam looked deeply into his master’s blue eyes and took his hands in wild excitement. But when the music stopped, and the crowd woke from the enchantment, Frodo withdrew his hands quickly and turned his eyes away from his loyal friend. Sam followed Frodo’s movement with his gaze as his master gradually disappeared in a group of elves, and quietly made his exit from the hall. He never returned to the celebration thereafter. 

On the next day after the feast, Frodo went to Aragorn and Arwen by the fountain in the king’s garden and asked to leave soon for the Shire. 

“In seven days we will go,” the king said, “for we shall ride with you far on the road, even as far as the country of Rohan. In three days now Eomer will return hither to bear Theoden back to the rest in the Mark, and we shall ride with him to honor the fallen. But now before you go I will confirm the words that Faramir spoke to you, and you are made free for ever of the realm of Gondor; and all your companions likewise. And if there were any gifts that I could give to match with your deeds you should have them; but whatever you desire you shall take with you, and you shall ride in honor and arrayed as princes of the land.” And the queen gave to the ring-bearer the most befitting gift. 

Frodo thanked them both and walked slowly down the pavements in deep thoughts. Without surprise, he found Samwise Gamgee in the guesthouse on the lowest circle of the city. The younger hobbit was sitting alone at a corner table with his back towards the door. 

“Oh my dear lad,” Frodo said gently, “what have I done to cause you such distress?”

“Forgive me, Mr. Frodo!” Samwise instantly looked up at him in tears, “it was Sam that brought you trouble!”

“Why do you say that?” Asked Frodo with a sad smile, “if not for you, I would have been lost in the vast black plain beneath Mount Doom, and the world would have been shadowed by darkness. You are worthy of the highest honor and my deepest thanks!”

“Oh Mr. Frodo, how kind you say those words!” Sam mumbled out while burying his face in his hands, “I could not stop thinking for the past two days. I asked myself: why must you ask for what’s more than you deserve, Samwise Gamgee! You could have loved Mr. Frodo as his gardener, as his friend, as always! Why did you ask for more? Oh Mr. Frodo, I don’t know what devilry took me. On that night I saw on your face the light that I’d always seen when you slept or when you spoke of elvish stories, and I couldn’t help myself. I’m so sorry that caused you trouble!”

“But,” Frodo replied, pulling Sam’s hands gently away from his red face, “you were not wrong to ask for more.”

As Sam looked at him with disbelief in those swollen eyes, Frodo continued, “for I love you the same way. How could I not, after all we have been through? It is me that should owe you an apology, because I loved you but could not tell you so.”

He gently stroked Sam’s face, as the other hobbit looked equally shocked and ecstatic. “But I am broken: I may not look it, but deep in my heart I am not the same hobbit that set out from the Shire with you. Although peace was restored to the world, I cannot say that it is in me. My heart yearns to return to the Shire, but where it will find peace might be somewhere else.”

“Then I will follow you anywhere you’d like!” Sam blurted out.

“No Sam,” said Frodo sadly, “in your heart, you still love the Shire very much. You love the food, the pipeweed, the Brandywine and the hills. How can I take those away from you? My dear Sam, your days are long and there is so much that you can enjoy. Love me as a friend as you did, and live your life until our paths cross again.”

“I don’t understand half of what you have said, Mr. Frodo,” said Sam earnestly, “I don’t see how you are broken. But loving you as a friend I will! Sam wishes nothing more than being at your side!” And Frodo smiled and leaned in to kiss Samwise on the forehead.

************************************************************************************************************************************************

The same afternoon Legolas found Arwen still sitting by the fountain and talked with her for a little while. She led him down to sit beside her and laid her head on his shoulder; for a while both sat comfortably in silence. 

“Frodo came to speak with me today,” she finally said, “he seemed much changed since I last saw him in Imladris.”

“Didn’t we all?” Legolas chuckled.

“And I said to him that he could go in my stead — sail with my father to the west. He looked somewhat relieved to hear that.”

Dolefulness occupied Legolas’s heart, as he was reminded of the inevitable farewell that would befall between them. “A befitting gift to the ring-bearer,” he said lightly, “and a good companion he will be to Lord Elrond.”

“Will Elladan and Elrohir sail with them?” He asked.

“Not yet,” she answered, “they have not decided on the fate of the Eldar. Nor have they favored the fate of men. But I do hope that they will choose the elven life and leave the mortal world behind, for my father has lost so many. Even though I cannot sail with him, I wish my brothers will go to him in time.”

“They were very involved with the affairs of the Dunedain; great lords of men they will be if that is their choosing,” he reflected, “but the king has returned to Gondor and the Dunedain’s exile is now over. Elladan and Elrohir can deem their tasks fulfilled and sail at ease. Lord Elrond will have his sons with him over the sea.”

“And I am glad that he is not alone anymore,” she added, her lips curving up, and Legolas knew at once what she was referring to.

“I meant to ask you about that,” Legolas wondered, “for it is not in the custom of the Eldar to have a second marriage, except when the married be separate from irrevocable death.”

He said mournfully, “I do not remember it, but it is said that my mother suffered a blow to the heart by the Morgul blade, and in refusal to become a wraith she faded. Where herspirit were led to is unknown, but never will she return to the halls of Mandos, or any land known to the Eldar except maybe Luthien the fair.”

And Arwen squeezed his hand as he continued, “but lady Celebrian lives in the west. I do not know the story as she sailed when I was a child, but as Lord Elrond sails also will they not be reunited?”

“It disheartens me to say it, but my mother will not return to his side,” she answered, “had you been there you would understand it. My mother has the same proud heart as the lady of the Galadhrim, and even angering the Valar she would not change her mind.”

“Stubborn was she to leave and I to stay. I wish I had spent more time with her, Legolas, now that there is no chance for me to see her again,” she buried her face in the back of his shoulder, and Legolas could feel the dampness of her tears.

“Alas, but her memory will remain clear and unstained to your heart,” said Legolas with longing, “and you will always think of her dearly, knowing that she would be happy for your choice.” 

“Yes,” she finally smiled, “I know she would.”


	9. The Farewell

As Aragorn had said, in three days Eomer of Rohan rode forth to the white city. In the main halls another feast was thrown for the arrival of the Rohirrim, where Eomer sat and drank with the kings and queens of elves and men. He was amazed by the company of elven ladies and lords as much as Faramir and the prince of Dol Amroth, and great immense wonder he felt when he finally saw Lady Galadriel appear before his eyes and was nothing like the treacherous figure from old tales. At the end of the feast, he called upon Gimli the dwarf and took back his earlier remark about the lady of the Galadhrim and the dispute was settled between the two friends. 

And on the very next day, with the golden bier on which king Theoden was laid, rode a large company to the north. Beside the men of Mark who bore their king’s body to their homeland, there was every remaining member of the fellowship, Queen Arwen, the lords of Gondor, and the elves that came to Minas Tirith on Midsummer’s Eve. 

In fifteen days they arrived at the golden hall of Edoras, where the burial of Theoden took place and many tears were shed. For a long while, Thranduil king of the woodland realm stood beside Theoden’s grave in silence. It was after some time that Elrond stood there alongside Thranduil and said, “he would be proud of what you did in his stead these thousands of years; before long you would hear him say so himself.” And Thranduil nodded. He took down the white gem at the center of his silver crown and put it in Theoden’s hands. 

All these Eowyn watched with great wonder. 

And Eowyn the lady of Rohan, whose tears shone on her snowy cheeks, was greatly moved by his golden hair and tall figure. She said to Faramir then, “I owe thanks to King Thranduil, who paid much respect to my king who was like a father to me — he who is kingly yet resplendent like light reflected from the spring’s earliest snow. His eyes are warm only when they landed on Legolas his son and Lord Elrond. Somehow I feel such sympathy with him!” 

“If it pleases you,” answered Faramir, “then I shall propose that all land in Ithilien will forever be made free to King Thranduil and his people. And his son Legolas will live with us in Ithilien for as many years as he would like!”

And then a drink was proposed to Eomer, who became the new king of the Mark, and the betrothal of Eowyn and Faramir was announced. During the feast Queen Arwen spent much time talking and laughing with the lady of Rohan, and she laid a necklace of greenstone around the lady’s neck as a gift of blessing for the upcoming marriage. Her father, lord Elrond, during the feast took a drink with Legolas, whom he had always loved as a son. 

“I have considered you one of my sons since the first time you were in Imladris, when you were a child,” he recalled, “not merely because how much you resemble your father — you might be surprised by the amount of similarities I see in you two nevertheless — but how much I see myself in you.

“Unlike my brother who was outright affectionate and spontaneous, I was the quieter child: to those who I cared deeply, I left my love unspoken. But one thing that I saw you have in common — you relentlessly strive to earn and protect what you care for. This I learnt from both of you.”

He laid one gentle hand on Legolas’s shoulder and smiled while looking into the younger’s eyes, “now live your life as you wish, ioneg. Worry not for the ones left behind. Come home when you want to, but I will take care of your father in the meantime.”

On the same evening before the group took leave of King Eomer, Queen Arwen bid farewell to her brethren of Imladris and Lothlorien. She went a walk with Elrond into hills and held a long conversation there, and what was said was unknown to her friends. So bitter was their parting that many averted their eyes to cast aside the grief. But Thranduil watched with frowned brows and Elrond found him in deep thoughts on their way to Isengard. 

At the base of Orthanc the half-elven finally found out what Thranduil was planning on. There Aragorn said farewell to Elrond and Galadriel, knowing that the haven that safeguarded him and Arwen throughout their previous years would not be there anymore, and Legolas and Gimli took leave of the hobbits and elves to tour the Fangorn Forest. It was then when Thranduil asked to have a private word with Gimli the dwarf.

“What is it that you ask of me, lord Thranduil?” bowed Gimli, “anything in my power or my possession, as long as it does not betray the interest of my brethren, I will spare no effort to achieve it. ”

“What I ask of you does not involve gold, nor does it undermine your kin,” replied Thranduil, “but to ask you not to let the fate of Arwen Evenstar befall my only son.”

“Glorious is the marriage of Queen Arwen to our friend Elessar, and happy will she be in the years to come. But aye, I see what worries you. Long is the lifespan of dwarves compared to men, but it is still a glimpse in the eyes of elves. For one or two hundred years I could live the most of my life with Legolas, but after that there will be death which I cannot escape. But if you ask me to let him go, to spare him the sorrow after my passing, I must ask you to forgive me. I will not spare him the pain in a hundred years by breaking his heart now!”

“It is already too late to ask you that,” the elven king smiled, much to the enraged Gimli’s surprise, “I believe you have heard of Tauriel, who is the captain of woodland realm and governs my state when I am gone.”

“Aye, I have seen her twice at my cousin Kili’s tomb. A fierce warrior she is, but she looks detached from all the world’s joy.”

“Then you will understand, why she could not feel joy on this earth but neither could she sail,” Thranduil explained, “because your cousin was buried here. She could never bear the pain of leaving his side, but nor would she ever find solace in his absence.”

“So what would you ask me to do?” Asked Gimli after a long pause.

“To sail west with my son” was the answer.

“To sail west!” Exclaimed Gimli, his voice startling a few birds that rested in a tree nearby, “it is unheard of for any dwarf to sail west. For our people are born and bred deep within the mountains; and when we die, we are buried here and became part of this earth again. I would never see my kin nor the earth that bore me, nor will I speak again the tongue of my kindred or taste the food from our tradition. Besides, it is quite impossible that the Valar would grant me passage!”

“Lady Galadriel will vouch for you. Her words will move the decision of the Valar, that I have no doubt. But no, I do not ask you to sail now,” explained Thranduil wearily with a pale face, “what I ask of you, is to bring him to me before the end of your life.

“Please do not leave him here weeping over your tomb, away from all his kin to the world’s ending! Bring him to my side when you feel the time is right. This is what I ask of you, as father of Legolas.”

“Aye, I can promise you that,” replied Gimli solemnly.

**Epilogue**

The summer of Fourth Age 120 in _Minas Tirith_ was a fair and bright season like many years preceding it. From afar the hills of _Emyn Armen_ in the southeast hosted a variety of birds and beasts and the forest of Ithilien in the northeast appeared to become a lusher shade of green than in the springtime. 

In the springtime King Elessar passed away. With his physique still solid and mind still clear, he arranged for everything to be in order after his death and said goodbye to all the friends that remained: Frodo, Bilbo, Elrond and Galadriel sailed two years after his coronation and wedding; in a few decades Sam sailed with Glorfindel at the grey haven and was finally reunited with his master; a little later Celeborn and the sons of Elrond boarded the last grey ship with Thranduil and Cirdan; Merry and Pippin were buried at his side already, and through the years Eomer, Faramir and Eowyn had passed away one after another. There were just Legolas and an elderly Gimli from the previous group at his wedding that attended his funeral and stayed in Minas Tirith with Arwen for a little while.

“After all these years the hair of the lady is still luminous like the sun and moon,” remarked Gimli holding the gem containing Galadriel’s gift on a bench outside his and Legolas’s little house in Ithilien, and Legolas was covering the elderly dwarf with a soft blanket, “do you think I might see her again?”

“If that is your wish, my love,” replied Legolas who looked up at him with unchanging blue eyes from his knees, “I can build a ship that bear us both to her side.”

“Aye,” smiled the dwarf, “that is one of the last things that I want to share with you, laddie.”

In the following autumn, Legolas built a ship by the Anduin and took Gimli with him to the undying lands. Queen Arwen, who refused to sail with them, left her son and daughters in the white city and returned to the woods of Lothlorien, where she first met Aragorn the ranger. But Celeborn and her brothers had already left, and she fell forever asleep there amidst the fading trees.


End file.
